


Shattered Pieces

by supernutjapan



Series: The Boy in the Mirror [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Dean, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester, Brother Feels, Brotherly Love, Gangbang, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Master/Slave, Punishment, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6279583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernutjapan/pseuds/supernutjapan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean Winchester are picked up by a travelling circus while they are very young. The circus is a very dangerous place for two young boys and Dean must give up a part of himself in order to protect his brother.</p><p>Timed 3 months after Broken - Sam is struck with a mysterious illness.  Dean has to ask the Master for help, which comes at a steeper price than Dean could ever imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters Sam and Dean Winchester. They belong solely to the creators of the TV show Supernatural.
> 
> My love to siennavie who created the artwork that inspired the story (http://siennavie.livejournal.com/35547.html ) and created the beautiful banner and dividers, VyperDD who beta-ed and windstorms who came and saved me when I was tearing my hair out, pointed out areas for improvement, gave me encouragement and supported me always. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Every muscle was protesting as Dean hurried back to his trailer. Grange had taken him out into the woods to practice listening to wildlife and hitting a moving target by moonlight, and despite his exhaustion, his lips were curved up in a contented smile. Training with Grange helped him forget about everything else and he always came back with a little less weight on his shoulders.

It was not surprising to Dean that there were more dangers out there. It was just one more thing he needed to protect his brother from, and now, the worry that the Master might find out and punish him took second place to the necessity to learn. But, he had also agreed wholeheartedly with Grange’s suggestion to keep the knowledge from Sam. He did not want Sam to have to live with the fear he lived with everyday. It was his job to protect him so Sam could stay as happy as he could be in the life they had.

Dean pushed himself to move faster. It was very late and he wasn't going to be able to get up in the morning if he didn't get to bed. He opened the door to his trailer, ducked through the curtain that separated his and Sam's corner from the rest of the trailer, dropped his jeans and slipped into the bed. Sam seemed rather cool to the touch as he wrapped his arm around him, so he snuggled closer to warm them both and drifted off to sleep.

Sleep was fitful and full of dreams of drowning in cold rivers, being locked in freezers, and walking through blizzards and he woke up shivering to realize that the cold was actually radiating from Sam.

"Sam? Sammy?"

He shook Sam's shoulder to wake him and gasped as he rolled him over onto his back. Sam’s face was blue and his lips purple, with only a slim breath whistling through them.

"Sammy...?!" Dean whispered his panicked scream. He flung himself on his brother, wrapped his arms around him and ran his fingers through his soft golden brown locks as he rocked back and forth, tears welling in his eyes as he gazed pleadingly into Sam's lifeless face. "SOMEONE HELP! PLEASE!!"

There was a crowd of people around the two boys' bed as the circus doctor pulled down Sam's shirt and covered him with his blanket. "It seems he is in a state of hypothermia but I can't find the reason for it. You'll have to get some tests done at the local hospital as soon as possible to find out what the problem is. Too long in this state and his organs are going to start shutting down." The doctor patted Dean sympathetically on the shoulder and started putting his instruments away in his bag.

The crowd started to dissipate, walking away in twos and threes and whispering to each other excitedly. Lost, Dean looked after the doctor until the door closed on his back and then searched the room desperately until they stopped on the only other person left. The Master stood on the other side of the room with his hand at his chin, one finger playing at his lips as he looked thoughtfully at Sam. Sensing Dean's gaze, he directed his eyes to him. Dean stumbled over to the Master and threw himself onto the floor before him, grabbing a piece of the man’s suit pants and lifting his tearful face to the unsympathetic one above him. 

"Please, Master. You have to help my brother. Help him, please." Dean choked.

The Master slapped his hand away from his pants leg as he would a fleck of dirt, and his voice was hard as he said, "I don't HAVE to do ANYTHING, bitch. Your brother's health is your responsibility."

Dean groveled, his eyes streaming with tears, one arm wrapped around his stomach, which felt like it was going to rip itself out of his body at any minute, and one hand gripping the Master's shiny black shoe. "Please, I will do anything."

"There is nothing you can do for me that you wouldn't do anyway. I suggest you think of a way to make some money yourself to pay for your brother's hospitalization."

Dean felt completely at a loss as he tried to think of a way to get such money. No respectable job would pay so much in such a short time, and Sammy needed the tests done NOW. Grange was a good man, but he was also an employee at the circus and Dean doubted he had the money to help. And who in town would lend money to a circus kid? Was he going to have to watch his brother die with no way to save him? He felt his heart shatter and pierce him like pieces of broken glass as he tried desperately to breath. 

"There is one thing you could do," the Master suggested after a long pause, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I know some people who wouldn't mind giving some money for your pussy. If you like, I will invite some people over and we'll have ourselves a little party. Of course, I'll take a percentage and you can use the rest to pay for the hospital fees."

Dean was so overwhelmed with his grief that, at first, he didn’t understand what the Master was saying. As the coarse words gradually sank in and he imagined a bunch of other men touching him, fondling him and sticking their huge dicks inside of him, he felt the blood drain from his face. He brought his shaking hand up from the floor to grip his knee until the pain cleared his head, then turned back toward the bed to look at Sam, still lying exactly as the doctor had left him. What else did he have that he could give up? What the hell else was he any good for? Here was a way he could save his brother. Slowly, he willed himself to turn back towards the Master, looked directly into those cold eyes, and jerked his head down.

"I will do anything, Sir."

"Go call Grange then, and get him to take Sam to the hospital. I'm sure he's back from his errand by now and would be happy to help Sam. I'll see you tonight." The Master turned and left the trailer without another word.

Dean slowly got up from the floor, went to the side of the bed and, gripping his brother’s cold hand, gazed in anguish at his blue-tinted face.

"Don't worry, Sammy. You're going to be fine real soon. I'm going to go get Grange now. I'll be right back." He wiped his tear-stained face with his sleeve, pulled himself away from the bed and ran. 

Dean could think of nothing but Sam’s lifeless face as he ran through the morning bustle of the circus and past various animal and performer cars, not caring whether he bumped into people along the way or their shouts of annoyance trailing behind him.

As he ran up to the knife thrower’s trailer, he saw Grange reaching for something inside his truck parked in front. 

“Grange!” he cried out, gasping for breath.

Grange turned and, seeing Dean’s face, put the box he had in his hands down and quickly stepped toward him. Gripping his shoulder, he peered into his face with concern. "Dean! What's wrong?" 

His lip trembled. "It's Sammy. He's real sick, Grange. Dr. Campbell doesn't know what is wrong with him. The Master told me to tell you to take him to the hospital for tests."

Grange slowly released him and rested his hands on his hips as he chewed his cheek in thought. "What does Sam look like, Dean? There is a sickness going around town here. Seems all the kids are catching it."

"He's all cold. And he's hardly breathing. The doctor said it was hypothermia."

"Damn it. It's the same one." Grange said in a forceful whisper, then whirled around to grab his keys from the table. "You go to your trailer to get Sam ready. I'll bring the circus van over."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean slipped through the curtains of Sam's hospital bed to head back to the circus. The many tests they had done that day had not gotten them any closer to finding out what it was. The doctors were now feeding Sam through tubes to keep him alive. 

He had waited until finally all the nurses and doctors had gone and they were alone, then he'd crawled into the hospital bed and held Sam softly to him to try to give him some extra body heat before finally pulling himself away again. Just because his brother was sick, didn't mean Dean was excused from his duties. And he still had to pay for the medical bills. What had to be done, had to be done. 

A pretty girl around Dean's age slipped through the curtained bed next to Sam's and noticed Dean. They nodded to each other sadly.

"My brother. How about you?" Dean asked quietly as they went out into the hall together.

"Baby sister. It's all my fault. I should have shut the window when we went to bed." 

Dean thought of how he had left Sam alone as he went out for the special training with Grange. If only he hadn't left Sam alone for so long. His step faltered as he felt that familiar pain in his gut.

"You know... I saw something."

He looked up quickly at the girl's words.

"A shadow over my little sister - I could have sworn..." 

"What?" He asked quickly.

"This monster sucked something out of her." She glanced at his face tentatively and then shook her head. "Of course they all think I was dreaming. Some sort of foreshadowing or something. How could it be real right? There's no such thing as monsters."

He touched the girl's hand tentatively. "What's your name?"

"Lisa." 

"Lisa, my name is Dean and I know that monsters are real. I've been attacked by one. I also know an adult who'll also believe you and maybe help us get this monster before it hurts anyone else. His name is Grange. He's the knife thrower at our circus and he saved me from the monster that attacked me. He can save your sister and my brother as well. Will you tell him what you saw?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Lisa laughed dryly as she shook her head. "For some reason you telling me that there actually are monsters, that there was a real live monster in my room last night, sucking the life out of my sister...that doesn't make me any happier, Dean."

"You and me both. I don't want to imagine that for my brother either." He shuddered, then spoke with added urgency, "But at least it's a real live something rather than an unknown virus or whatever they think it is now. And this guy will know how to kill it. He should be just down at Registration."

"Alright." Lisa sighed. "It doesn't hurt to try everything, I guess. Let's go."

Back at the trailer, Dean sat alone on the bed, elbows resting on his knees and forehead pressed to his clasped hands. Grange had listened carefully to Lisa's description of what she had seen, asking questions and even writing notes in a little notebook he carried in the breast pocket of his worn cowboy shirt. He'd told Dean that he had talked with a couple of other children who had also claimed to see something strange and what Lisa had to tell seemed to collaborate with these. He was now calling other "hunters" as he called them - people who killed monsters like he did - and doing some research. Dean also had work to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean hesitantly opened the double doors into the band's practice room of the main tent, and finding the room dark, stepped inside. Suddenly a spotlight captured him and he grimaced against the bright light as he looked toward the middle of the room where lights had also gone on. He could see a circle of around ten chairs, each with an occupant, and the Master in the middle of them all as if announcing a circus performance.

The Master's voice boomed on the microphone: "Gentlemen, I present to you the main course of the evening, the young Dean Winchester!" Ten people swiveled their heads toward Dean, all looking to him like monsters who could very well devour a teenage boy in one go. Eyes roaming over his body, some licking their lips as if in anticipation. Dean skimmed the crowd nervously. There were a couple of blond linebacker types, African Americans with muscles bulging, One Asian-looking man, thin but well-built - all either with their clothes off or in the midst of it. One of the blonds flung his t-shirt on his chair as the Master spoke, then bent down to take a sip from his champagne glass.

"Come inside the circle, bitch."

Dean took a deep breath and again brought up the image of his brother in the hospital as he walked steadily toward the circle and walked between two chairs to stand in the middle. 

He felt the familiar pain as the Master yanked his short hair and held him out for everyone to see.

"This naughty little bitch needs continuous loving care to keep him in his place, gentlemen." And then, after a brief ominous silence, "He's all yours.”

Suddenly, he could feel them all breathing on him, they were so close. Their hands were everywhere. In no time at all, he was stripped of his shirt and pants and his arms were strung on a hook from the ceiling. Champagne guy grabbed his chin and thrust his tongue deep into his mouth. 

Dean sagged as the man moaned. “Mmmm…tastes good. Try him.” Champagne guy called to one of the others and he had no time to recover before another mouth assaulted him, sucking on his tongue and invading every part of his mouth. 

Another man laughed throatily as he pushed Dean's legs apart. “Let’s see how he tastes down there.” He gasped as his balls were engulfed by the man’s mouth. Hands groped his legs, arms and body, pinched and licked his nipples so that they grew taut and sensitive, stroked his shaft and scissored slick lubed fingers inside his ass. He jerked, gasped and cried out, which not only produced chuckles in the grown men but seemed to encourage them into even more action. Overwhelmed by the massive sensations, he groaned as his dick filled, pulsed and throbbed and his ass burned in anticipation. 

Tears welled. He wanted to beg them to please stop, but of course he could not. Not only did he need the money to keep Sam in the hospital, but the Master was there sitting on one of the chairs in front of him, watching him with dark, dangerous eyes. As he looked into those eyes, he suddenly climaxed and come spurted out on to the dark brown hand wrapped around his dick as he spasmed. The man whooped and pasted the come over his own huge dick. “I think I’m ready for some ass guys. Anyone ready for a mouth fuck?” 

There were grunts of agreement and someone took Dean’s arms down from the hook. As he fell, muscular arms pulled his ass up from the floor and fingers pried the ass cheeks apart. He felt the smooth tip of a dick on his lube-slick hole before it was thrust inside and filled him. He couldn't help but let out a groan.

“My GOD, such a slutty little ass!” The man slapped Dean’s cheeks as he slammed into him. "Ahhhh...It feels so good, baby," he crooned. 

Another man pushed Dean between his legs and directed his semi hard dick into his mouth. "Put it in all the way, bitch. Suck it down your throat." Dean tried to open up his throat so he didn’t gag but it was hard to concentrate as the assault on his other parts did not stop either. 

Those waiting their turn went under him to suck on his dick and balls and fondle his hardened nipples as they jerked off their own dicks. 

When finally the assault on his ass came to a jerky end, come squirting inside him, another dick took its place. It was never ending. Large dicks tore at his ass as they forced their way in, the longer ones he could feel go so deep he felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside. 

He was doing this for Sam. The pain he could and would take. What was unbearable was the seemingly endless number of times his body betrayed his intentions, overwhelming him with the flood of sensations so that he felt nothing but the desire for more and the uncontrollable urge to respond. It was only as each wave of orgasm enveloped him that he came back to himself and was filled with deep shame. So he welcomed the dicks in his throat that almost made him pass out and the come squirting down his throat. He desperately gave into the pain and lost himself in it. 

Finally there was an end to the timeless void as slowly all ten men had their full. They began towelling off their sweaty bodies and putting their clothes back on. Champagne guy rubbed Dean's ass gently then slapped it hard one last time. "Best fuck ever, Dean. We've got to do this again sometime." Dean lay curled up on his side in the middle of the room, spent and full of self-loathing. He felt the come drip down his ass as it was finally allowed out.

The Demon Nigal had watched with growing irritation, jealousy and need as his little bitch got fucked silly. It had all gone according to plan. Dean was again at his lowest and made even more pliable for his future plan. But all he could think was how the slut was going to leave this room remembering the pleasure and pain that THEY had inflicted. Remembering those dicks that had plowed into him and left their seed.

He needed to put the whore back in his place before he got any ideas. But, he could also tell that bitch was about to lose consciousness from exhaustion. It wouldn't do for him to not feel the punishment he had coming.

Nigal slowly got up from the chair where he had watched the show and walked over to stand by the bitch’s face. He touched his forehead and heard him gasp from a sensation akin to a splash of cold water on his mind. He then trailed his finger slowly down the smooth back, removing enough of the exhaustion so the bitch would be conscious. "Get up, whore. It's not over yet. You still need to pay me for your night of pleasure." 

As his bitch slowly stood up before him, he tied his wrists again and strung them up on the hook. He then took the whip he carried with him in his belt at all times, and ran it through his hand as he spat. "Well, they sure gave you a good time, didn't they, you little slut!" 

That thought alone made him boil with rage. The whip sailed through the air with the most satisfying "CRACK!" and slapped over the bitch's back, eliciting a scream that sent tingles up his groin. The pink line that appeared begged him for more. "You enjoyed every moment, didn't you?" CRACK! "How many times did you come, bitch?" CRACK! "You want some more?" CRACK! You will pay for letting them fuck you and taking pleasure in it." CRACK! "You are my bitch, you hear me?!" CRACK! CRACK! 

"I'm sorry, Sir. Yes, Sir. PLEEEEASE, SIR! The bitch screamed and cried and begged. The lines on his back turned from pink to red as the skin broke and blood smeared but it wasn't enough to satisfy Nigal's thirst. And yet he was not stupid. Every once in a while, he would touch the bitch's back and heal it just enough for another round. Finally when his desire to bury his dick deep inside the little fucker got too intense, he took the bitch down and slipped his swollen dick inside. He sighed as he felt the tight hotness that was his bitch and then took his time feeling it with every inch of his pulsing length. He'd never had another that made him feel so jealous and so damn horny. It was going to be the death of him.

Nigal dragged his dick out of the perfect little ass, now dripping and full of his own seed, touched the bloody back with his finger one last time, then, pulling the roll of bills from the pocket of the suit draped over his chair, dumped it in front of the bitch's face.

"There's your cut."

Nigal smiled. He'd healed the bitch of all the major wounds but the memory of the pain would remain in his mind, clouding everything that came before it. His evil seed would now spread inside him and help prepare him for his destiny.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean sat on the edge of his and Sammy's bed. The other residents had moved out during the day saying they were worried of contamination so he was truly alone, and the events of the day and a desperate loneliness overwhelmed him. He got into the cold empty bed and curled up into a ball, feeling the dull ache of that hellish whipping which should have killed him for sure and yet had left only a few itchy lines on his back. He must have been dreaming more than half of it. He was also sure that if he fell asleep now, he'd have the same dream all over again. 

Suddenly a cold breeze blew in the curtains. There should not have been any breeze. The door and all the windows were closed. Dean quickly sat up in bed, peering into the dark. A short shadow stood at the foot of his bed. It was not the Master, nor was it any adult member of the circus.

Maybe he was already dreaming... "Sam?" 

"No, Dean. It's Lisa."

Yes, definitely dreaming. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come and lie down with you? My sister died tonight and I'm so lonely."

Dean's heart ached for his own brother. "Um, yeah, sure." 

The shadow came over to the bed and lay down next to him but for the life of him, he couldn't see her face. "Lisa, how did you find me?"

"I've been here before, Dean." she said as she gently pulled his face over to hers. Suddenly, her grip grew incredibly strong, so strong that he could not get away even if he had wanted to. And when he finally saw her face, it wasn't the Lisa he knew at all but barely more than a skeleton covered in a dark cold shadow. To his horror, he felt his mouth open and his breath started to seep out toward the gaping mouth of the monster in a whiff of grey smoke. Then suddenly the shadow coughed. “You don't taste right.”

Next thing he knew, a bright light shone from across the room. "HEY!" The shadow monster turned her head toward the sound a second before a shot rang out and she fell back over the side of the bed.

"Dean! Are you OK?" The light came closer and he saw that it was Grange, a shotgun in his arms.

Dean and Grange stood in a clearing in the nearby woods, watching the witch burn.

“So, Lisa was a shtriga.” 

“Yes. It's a monster that feeds on the life force, or soul, of a person. They often take children, maybe because their life force is stronger. I thought it was the doctor at first. One of the hunters I contacted told me about a striga like that. But when Lisa wasn’t attacked after her sister, I looked into her records and found she was a foster child. The attacks had all started after she moved to her new family. I knew then that she would be after you or me, next.”

Dean nodded. "I called the hospital and Sam as well as all the other children who were still alive have revived. Sam can come home tomorrow. Thank you Grange. You saved both me and Sam this time," he said quietly. 

"I wish I could do more, Dean. The Ring Master hurt you again, didn't he?" 

Dean looked at the fire with grim resignation. "I'm fine. Just look out for Sam for me, please. I don't know what I'd do if he died."

Grange nodded sadly.

**Postscript**   


"Dean!!" Sam tackled Dean with a shout as soon as Dean entered his hospital room. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes shone with excitement. His small bag of clothing was sitting on the bed, all ready to go. 

"Hey! I missed you! How was hospital food, huh?" Dean lifted Sam off the ground and hugged him just as tightly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to drink in the scent of Sam's hair.

"Horrible. And the doctors wouldn't stop it with the tests because they couldn't figure out why we were all well again. It was a living hell!" 

"You're better now, and that's what matters." Dean lovingly ruffled Sam's hair as they walked outside to the circus van where Grange waited smiling.


End file.
